


Knife's Edge

by Lurid_licentious_and_vile



Series: The Raid [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Orgasm Control, Please be aware that literally nothing happening in this story is consensual, Post-Apocalypse, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Threats of Violence, mention of underage sexual abuse in the background but not on screen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28431552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurid_licentious_and_vile/pseuds/Lurid_licentious_and_vile
Summary: A raider is enjoying the company of his newest captive. The captive isn't having quite as much fun - but perhaps the threat of a sharp blade will make him rethink that attitude.
Series: The Raid [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082492
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Knife's Edge

The haze of terror, grief and exhaustion faded suddenly as though I’d been dunked into a barrel of cold water. The first thing I noticed after I came to was the pain of having my arm bent roughly onto my back and my face shoved into gravel. 

“Let me go, you fucking bastard!” I heard my own scream, somewhat muffled by the ground. 

Then it all came flooding back. The attack. The raiders. Gunshots. Bodies falling. My mother - gone. My sister - gone. My best friend moaning with his dying breath as his wife’s head was damn near separated from her body. Rough hands grabbing me, throwing me onto a pick-up truck. The compound walls. All the others, taken away, one by one. Looking back over my shoulder at Lia being carried away by the raiders’ leader and…

… and I had run. I remembered now. My legs had acted of their own accord and I’d made a break for it. Completely senseless, of course. I hadn’t thought for a moment that I might get away. I hadn’t thought anything at all.

“Oh, I’m going to make you regret that, you little fucker.” My captor pushed down on my arm and pain shot all the way to my shoulder, making tears spring to my eyes. I was going to die. And knowing these monsters, I was going to die slowly. First he’d break my arm, then he’d move on to the rest of my body. My vision went red at the thought of all that pain - all the blood. I couldn’t bear it, even in my imagination. I couldn’t let it happen for real. But I was helpless. At their mercy. There was nothing I could do. Well, nothing except...

“Fucking kill me then, you deranged goatfucker!” I screamed. “Go on! Do it! You fucking pussy!” 

I remembered the bastard who’d chosen me from the crowd - twice my size or more with arms like fucking tree trunks. If I managed to piss him off enough… if I successfully made him lose control … one badly-aimed punch and it would all be over. Of course I didn’t want to fucking die, but what choice did I have? They were going to kill me sooner or later and even the dullest image of what they might do to me in the time between ‘sooner’ and ‘later’ was too terrifying to contemplate.

My captor gave an unintelligible roar of anger, grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head up. My neck screamed in protest. But I could endure this. Just a few seconds. Please. Just slam my head down. Shatter my skull. Break my neck. Something. Anything. Just please. Please end it quickly.

“Got yourself a wriggly one there, Mads?”

My head was dropped to the ground. The soft thump reverberated through my whole body. The pain in my shoulder faded as my captor loosened his grip on my arm.

“Yeah,” he growled.

“That what you’re into these days?”

“I’ll beat it out of him,” answered my captor and grabbed me once more by the hair, as if to prove his point. “What’s it to you anyway?”

“Just thinking you might be happier with something a little more … docile.”

My captor gave an odd little grunt and lifted his knee off my back. I could have tried to get up and run. I should have. A bullet in the back was my best case scenario here, after all. But my body wouldn’t obey my commands.

“You suggesting we swap?”

“Well spotted, my friend.”

“Eh, I like docile, but this little shit has a nice, fuckable ass.”

I flinched hard when a foot collided - not too hard, but hard enough to hurt - with my backside. But it wasn’t really the pain that made me recoil. ‘Fuckable’ … it wasn’t like I hadn’t expected that’s what they were planning to do to me, but the word still sent a shiver down my spine and the tears pooling in my eyes overflowed. Images filled my mind of being bent over a hard surface, rough hands holding me down and - no. No. Please. Please get angry. Please kill me. You’ve got to!

The other raider chuckled. “Oh, I very much agree, but I doubt that’ll be much use to you if you end up beating him to a pulp first.”

For fuck’s sake! Please! Don’t talk him out of it!

“I’ve got you a fuckable ass and a nice pair of tits on something that’ll obey your every command. Assuming your preferences are still ‘all of the above’, that is.”

Briefly, there was silence, punctuated by a few grunts of what I assumed had to be appraisal, then finally: “Yeah, the girl would do. She does what she’s told, then?”

“Anything,” said the other raider softly, “isn’t that so?”

There was a soft whimper, then a “Y-yeah” so quiet I very nearly didn’t recognise the voice of Mary. Mary who I’d known since she’d been small enough to carry, who’d helped me raise my sheep and had laughed at my sister’s stupid jokes, who was kind and soft and sweet and didn’t fucking deserve this.

“She’s just fourteen, you fucking bastards!” I howled and tried to jump to my feet, but was immediately knocked back down again by the larger raider. Lying with my face in the dirt and a foot on my back, all I could do was listen to the two raiders discuss my fate.

“You want to tie this one down, he’s squirmy.” 

“Oh, I expect nothing less.” The audible glee in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

The larger raider hoisted me to my feet by the back of my shirt and held me there, feet dangling awkwardly, shirt slowly slipping off my back as I tried to find purchase on the ground. Now I could see the raider who had shown such an interest in me. He was only slightly taller than me, skinny, nothing like the monster who had ripped me from among my friends and family. In a fair fight, maybe I could have taken him. Of course, there was nothing further from a fair fight than this situation.

He was armed, of course. He had a rifle slung across his back and a handgun stuck in a holster on his hip. That holster drew my eye. Maybe I’d just been too distracted by having my entire life ripped to shreds before my eyes, but I hadn’t noticed any of the other raiders bothering with such trifling concerns as not shooting their own balls off. And it wasn’t just the holster either. The man looked eerily well put-together, from his shoes, which were somehow shiny despite the dust he was standing on, to his perfectly stainless shirt and his meticulously shaved chin. Even his blonde hair was parted precisely down the centre. I couldn’t suppress a gulp when I realised that the only thing breaking the image was a large splotch of blood on his right cheek. 

The raider must have noticed me staring because he wiped away the blood with a casual gesture of his hand and gave me a smirk that made my own blood run cold. I’d never seen anyone smile like that. For a moment I was convinced that the next thing I’d see would be that mouth opening wide and revealing rows and rows of pointed teeth. I wanted to turn away, to hide my face from that damn smile, but all I succeeded in doing was wriggling free of my shirt and landing painfully on my back. Winded, I stared up at my captors and poor little Mary, who was crying noiselessly.

The brute who had held me let out a bark of laughter but the other raider just kept smiling. His eyes wandered up and down my now naked upper body and his smirk grew wider. No nightmare teeth hid behind his thin lips, thank God, but that didn’t exactly give me a sense of relief. I couldn’t have put my finger on it, but something in the way this man held himself made me think I might just have tumbled out of the frying pan straight into the roaring flames. The way he held himself - and the terrifying smile that didn’t fade a bit when he turned to his companion, gave a little mock bow and said “Pleasure doing business with you.”

The brute nodded and grabbed Mary by the arm. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even disobey when my new ‘owner’ beckoned me to get up and walk with him.

* * *

From the outside, the building he led me to looked like all the others, a small block of weathered concrete, probably here since the beforetimes and likely not built for living in. The inside, though… I very much doubted that the other raiders kept their spaces as neat and tidy as his. There wasn’t a spot on the floor. It was unsettling! The bed in the corner was meticulously made with dark blue sheets that would have looked deliciously soft in any other place. But the sight of that bed made me shiver, the word “fuckable” still floating in the back of my mind. 

In the end, though, it was the thin mat laid out next to the bed, covered in a plastic sheet, that knocked the breath right out of me and made me stop in my tracks. There were shackles at the top and bottom of that mat, connected to concrete blocks that looked far too heavy to move. 

Behind me, the door of the shack slammed closed. I jumped and whirled around. The raider smirked at me, then nonchalantly walked down to a box next to the bed and started rummaging around in it. He wasn’t even looking at me now. I had to take the chance. Make a grab for one of his guns - he’d taken off the rifle and put it on a shelf. I might make it. Or make a run for it and maybe make it as far as the compound walls before ending up with a bullet in my back. This was my last shot. I had to.

I didn’t move. Something about the raider told me that, even though he was no longer staring at me, if I took a single step out of line, he’d be on me, he’d make me pay for it and he most certainly wouldn’t be provoked into giving me a quick death. 

Apparently, the raider had found whatever it was he was looking for. He got up and walked toward me. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my fingertips. My throat was parched. The voice in my head kept screaming ‘Run! Damn it! Run!’ But I couldn’t fucking move, except to flinch when the raider shoved something into my hand.

To my surprise, I found it was just a wash rag. A moment later, I heard the sound of water flowing. I turned around to see the raider bent over a metal washtub, letting water run into it from a tank I hadn’t even spotted before. He closed the tap, stood up and smiled at me like a hungry man eyeing a slab of juicy meat.

“Strip,” he said in a perfectly pleasant voice, pointing at the washbasin. 

No. No, this wasn’t happening. I wasn’t letting this happen. If he wanted to make a game of humiliating me, at least I’d put up a fight. I owed myself that much!

“N-no,” I said. I was trying to shout. To make a stand. Perhaps a final one, who knew? But my voice was shaking so hard it was barely audible at all. I sounded utterly pathetic. The raider chuckled.

“Ah, and here I thought you’d left your rebellious streak at the door.” He waved at the washbasin once more. “You’re filthy. Do you expect me to touch you in the state you’re in?”

“You - you - you keep your fucking hands off me, asshole! If you want to touch me, you’re gonna have to shoot me first!” My head was reeling, my heart was pounding, my legs were trembling and my eyes would not move from the raider’s smirk, which was only growing more pronounced as he was listening to my show of defiance.

He raised an eyebrow: “Oh, will I?” Then he started slowly walking toward me, step by step by step.

I didn’t even realise I was backing away until my back hit a wall. With trembling limbs I tried to reach for the door - I had to get out of here, what happened after that didn’t matter - but I couldn’t find the handle and I didn’t dare turn my back on him.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” I screamed. He was just an arm’s length from me now. I saw his smile grow wider, saw him reach into a pocket and fear overwhelmed my every thought. I lashed out. In my mind, I saw myself kicking, punching, biting, whatever it took to take this bastard down, even if I died in the process. At least it would be quick.

What actually happened must have had little resemblance to the heroic final stand I was envisioning. I remember throwing a punch, but it never even connected. I’d never been much of a fighter and the same clearly wasn’t true for him. He moved faster than I could react and a moment later I found myself, still on my feet, but no less subdued than I had been some minutes ago outside with my face shoved in the gravel. He was standing behind me, his hands gripping my hair so tightly that I couldn’t move my head to look down at his other arm, which was wrapped around my naked chest. Even kneeling among the bodies of my dying family with a shotgun pointed straight at my head, I hadn’t felt this vulnerable. 

His hot breath was making the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight. He was breathing heavily the way he was pressing his body up against me made me suspect that exhaustion played no part in that at all.

I was so preoccupied with his threatening presence at my back that I didn’t even realise the hand folded across my midriff was holding a knife until I felt the cold hard metal of the blade against my skin.

I froze with a loud whimper. Trying to goad the brute into finishing me off with a badly-calculated blow, even running for freedom knowing perfectly well that freedom might take the shape of a bullet to the head was an entirely different matter. Now I was facing the threat of a far more drawn out, far more painful death and there wasn’t an ounce of courage left in me. Not even the courage of desperation. I was damn near pissing myself in terror.

“Won’t you look at at that?” the raider said, his voice thick with amusement, “I’m touching you and yet,” the knife slowly wandered upward, scraping along my skin as it moved, the pressure strong enough for me to feel it at every moment but never strong enough to cut, until it finally came to rest just below my left nipple. He - he wasn’t going to ... “somehow your heart’s still beating.” 

The knife wandered back down again. I felt the pressure of my captor’s hand against my crotch and very nearly started to plead for mercy. But before my mouth could form the words, he had, with one swift motion, cut my thin cloth belt. My trousers - scavenged from a long abandoned house and worn once by someone to whom hunger was a stranger - dropped to the ground.

I was left naked as the day I’d been born, in the grip of a sadistic bastard who was going to do God only knew what with me, his knife resting now against my stomach. I couldn’t help myself. I started to sob.

“Ah, that’s different,” whispered the raider in my ear. “Different, but not entirely unwelcome. I didn’t think there was much substance to all that bravado you were putting on. You don’t  _ actually  _ want to die, do you?”

As he said those words, he pushed the knife down harder and the blade bit into my skin. I gasped.

“Please…”

The cut burned and I was sure I could feel blood running down my skin.

“You’re probably wondering if I’m going to cut you open and gut you right here and now.”

I shut my eyes tight. As if that would do anything to lessen the imminent pain of a knife slicing through my skin.

“I’m not. It would be a horrible waste to just kill you.”

The raider lifted the knife off my skin. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped my throat.

“Don’t worry, if I decide to cut you open, you’ll know about it. I’ll probably put a nice little pattern on you first, from your neck”, he unwrapped his fingers from my hair, leaving my scalp stinging, and trailed them softly down my neck, further down my side, until he reached my hip where he let his hand rest, “down to here. At least. Maybe even let it heal over a bit before I kill you. There’s a lot you can do with shallow cuts.”

I shook my now-freed head in horror. 

“Please. Please don’t.” Tears were running freely down my face. “Please don’t cut me. Please don’t hurt me. I … I can’t … I … it’ll be too much, I’m no good at handling pain, I can’t take it. Please. I’ll … I’ll pass out, I swear, I can’t take it. Please...”

I was rambling, barely aware of what I was saying and not making much sense. Why would he care about my low pain tolerance? If I passed out, he’d just slap me awake and continue torturing me.

“My,” said the raider, talking over my pleas, “you break so easily.” He raised a hand once more to my face and caressed my cheek. “Hush.”

I fell silent, except for the sobs I could no longer control.

“So afraid of a little bit of pain,” he breathed. “Is that why you were trying so hard to get yourself killed?”

I didn’t answer. Even if I had thought it would help, my voice wouldn’t have cooperated.

“Fortunately for you, there are other ways to keep me entertained.” 

The hand on my cheek wandered once more back down, but this time it came to rest on my ass and the raider gave it a squeeze. My breath caught in my throat.

That, then. I’d have to get used to the idea of being … fuckable. That might very well be my only way to avoid being cut, being made to bleed, being made to scream. And surely, it had to be better than outright torture. Maybe he’d be gentle - oh, fuck, who was I kidding? Of course the fucking sadist wouldn’t be gentle. I was in for a world of pain either way. But even on the off-chance he’d give me a choice about the exact way he would hurt me, I didn’t have it in me to choose the blade slicing into my skin.

“We still need to get you cleaned up, you know?” He guided me along to the thin mat with the shackles on the ground and laid me down with surprising gentleness, coming to a kneel next to me. Of course, the knife still held to my chest made a mockery of any gentleness.

“I would have let you wash yourself, but after that little show of rebellion I don’t think I trust you anymore.” I was staring at him, my eyes following his every move, and to my surprise he put the knife in a sheath on his belt even as he was saying those words. 

But before I even knew what was happening, both of my arms were in his bruising grip and then, a split second later, cold shackles closed around my wrists with a metallic click.

The raider sat back into a crouch and looked down at me with a leering smile.

“That’s much better.” He turned, dipped a washcloth in the metal basin and turned back to me. “You’re going to lie still for me, aren’t you? I won’t have to shackle your feet as well, will I?”

I just lay there and stared at him. The full hopelessness of my situation hit me like a punch. Here I was, shackled, naked, helpless. Whatever he wanted to do to me, he could do. And if I tried to kick him, well, I had a hunch my feet would end up in those shackles faster than I could beg for mercy and I didn’t even want to ponder where that knife of his would go afterwards.

Maybe I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from struggling once he decided to truly lay into me. But for now, it seemed he really did intend to clean me up. I could lie still for that and push the pain that was sure to come just a little bit further into the future.

He started with my face, sliding the cool washcloth across my forehead, down my cheeks, staring down at me all the while. I could feel myself blushing. 

“Oh, that really  _ is _ an improvement. You do look lovely without all that crud on you.” To my horror, he actually licked his lips. I would have recoiled if I hadn’t been tied down.

“Is that any way to react to a compliment, beautiful?” he said, running the washcloth further down my body. His touch was gentle as it reached my chest. Almost too gentle. He wasn’t just washing me now, he was caressing me, running the washcloth softly over my nipples. To my utter humiliation, I could feel them hardening from the touch. For a moment, I regretted the attack that had left me tied down here. If I’d just been calm and quiet and obedient, at least he would have let me wash myself.

But what the hell was I thinking? This bastard was having the time of his life humiliating me. Was I already so far gone that I was actually craving to play along with it? I was too cowardly to fight, knowing exactly how much he could - and would - hurt me if I did, but at least I shouldn’t be giving up my dignity so willingly!

But just as that rebellious thought reared its head, I felt the wetness of the cloth, now warmed by my own body, wander further down my skin, from my chest to my stomach, softly, gently, further and further down. And as the raider’s hands slipped past my navel, I felt a familiar tingle. 

No. No, this wasn’t happening! This couldn’t be happening. But there was no mistaking the heat between my thighs - my mind might have been holding onto the pipe dream of maintaining my dignity, but my body had very different ideas. And any hope the raider might not have noticed faded quickly when I saw him leering down at me, biting his lip. He was breathing even harder now and it was making my stomach turn. But the feeling of his hands, now sliding down the trail of hair underneath my navel was so much stronger than the nausea. 

“Ah, I do love the sensitive ones.” The raider dipped the washcloth in the basin and let it hover over my body for a moment, then roughly pushed my legs apart and began to caress my thighs. I wanted to struggle, to kick him away, but somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a tiny spark of anticipation tracking every minute movement of that washcloth, imagining what it might feel like when he finally stopped playing games and touched what he clearly wanted to touch. Damn it, what was wrong with me?

“I had a hunch you were sensitive from the start, you know. Even when you were wriggling out there in the dirt, shouting epithets.” The raider laughed and I could feel myself blush at the sheer humiliation of it all. “And the way you reacted to that tiny little scratch...” He ran the washcloth softly along the cut, making me flinch, but more with anticipation than with pain. It really hadn’t been much more than a scratch - but more than enough to make me come apart at the seams. 

“So much sensation,” he hissed and licked his lip, “so easy to torment.”

My eyes closed of their own accord, I simply couldn’t stand seeing the way he was looking at me. I heard the washcloth fall into the basin with a splash.

“Now, now,” he ran a hand softly down my cheek, “why all the cringing?” 

I didn’t answer. What could I have said? Anything I did, anything I said, would just become part of his game. And if I strayed beyond the game’s confines, he’d bring me back in line one way or another. 

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to expect a response. He took his hand off my cheek and positioned it with an almost mocking gentleness between my legs, his palm resting on my pubes. I stopped breathing. Was he going to … was he finally ...

“Really, this isn’t necessary at all. There’s many types of torment that can be quite enjoyable for the tormented.” A finger slid lazily along my shaft. The unexpected sensation made me gasp out loud. I got a chuckle in response. “And your body seems all too ready to enjoy.”

My eyes opened, meeting his. He was still staring down at my face - he probably hadn’t looked away for a single moment. Did the bastard even blink? I tried to meet his gaze, tried to glare at him, but I knew even without a mirror that I was making a fool of myself.

“Why don’t you just lie back and relax while you still can? There’s nothing you can do to stop me anyway. All this unnecessary tension - you’ll just end up giving yourself muscle cramps.”

“Like you care,” I growled through clenched teeth. It didn’t exactly come out sounding very tough. I was barely loud enough to hear myself over my own heartbeat.

The raider clasped a hand to his heart in mock outrage. “Such accusations. No, no, believe me, I do care.” Before I knew what was happening, his fingers wrapped themselves gently around my cock, just as his other hand shot up to grab my chin. “If you’re too busy hurting yourself, you can’t focus on what _ I’m _ doing to you. Relax!”

And slowly, so very slowly, his hand began sliding along my cock. He was barely exerting any pressure at all, but my body was reacting to his touch. I could feel the heat rising up my spine as those fingers pressed down softly, then a little harder, then softer again, playing me expertly. I was rock-hard within mere moments. 

The raider settled down on the floor next to me, his face now inches from mine, and breathed in my ear: “See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”

I wanted to back away, needed to get away, because one more second of this and I wouldn’t be able to stifle my moans. I couldn’t bear the idea of giving him that satisfaction. I’d bite my lip bloody before I…

… “Oh fuck!”

His lips, his tongue were suddenly pressed against the side of my neck, right against that sensitive spot that always got me going. As if he knew. As if he could read my mind. And what was worse, he had slipped his other hand underneath my ass and was massaging it in time with his kisses. I saw stars. 

“Fuck!”

I wasn’t even looking at the raider, but I could see his creepy smile growing wider. That look had burned itself into the inside of my eyelids. I felt myself throbbing in his hand and no matter which way my hips moved, I found myself pushing into his touch. I bit back my moans but I couldn’t silence those gasps escaping my mouth whenever he moved his hands or his lips just so. I was writhing, dignity all but forgotten. I was so close. One more second of this and I wouldn’t be able to hold back and…

His hands left my body so quickly it took me a moment to catch up and I felt myself thrusting my hips against empty air. 

“Haven’t had anything as good as me for a while, huh?” the raider breathed in my ear, making goosebumps travel down my skin. “I get it. Life is hard out there. You probably haven’t had a lot of time to enjoy the good things in life.” 

His voice was full of mock concern. The bastard was well aware that he and monsters like him were one of the chief reasons why the rest of us couldn’t enjoy our lives. But if he saw the disgust in my face, he didn’t let on. 

Instead, he let his fingers wander along my cheek, then down my neck. “But we wouldn’t want to get hasty and take all the enjoyment out of it, would we? If you want me to make you come, you’re going to have to earn it, you know.”

There it was again, that fucking smile. His gaze wandered along my body, making me feel somehow, impossibly, more naked and vulnerable than I was, especially when it finally settled on my still-hard cock. 

“Wh-what are you…”

“Aw, now, sweetheart,” his hand wandered to my chest and he pinched my nipple. Hard. I couldn’t help but gasp. “As fun as it is watching you whimper and writhe in those shackles down there, I’m not going to get off just from that. I’ll need a little bit more participation from you.”

My mouth was suddenly bone-dry. Lying here and taking his touch was humiliating enough! But this - this was something else. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again.

“You’ve been such a good little plaything, so I’m going to undo those shackles and let you get comfortable before you suck my cock.”

I shook my head. He couldn’t. I couldn’t. “Please…”

“Kneeling, lying down. Even going to let you get on my bed if you want, now that you’re all cleaned up. Bit sweaty, but oh well, you can wash my sheets for me if you’re still conscious by the end of the day.”

I heard the click of the shackles unlocking and my hands were free. Almost reflexively I clasped them around my body and curled into a ball. The room was warm, perhaps too warm, but I was shivering. My captor sat back on his haunches and gave me an expectant look.

“Go on then.” 

But all I could do was shake my head. He couldn’t make me do this. He couldn’t! But his hands were moving to open his fly and there was an unmistakable bulge and he was going to make me do this and there was nothing I could do…

The raider rolled his eyes. “My, you are indecisive. No matter. I’m not choosey.” In one swift motion, he moved closer, gripped the back of my head and pulled me close. I pulled back hard, slipping from his hand. My back hit the metal basin with a clang and a wave of water slopped over the side. 

The raider looked down at me, the creepy smile now no longer on his face. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh.”

That little “Oh” made my blood run cold. In panic, I tried to get to my feet. But before I’d even fully uncurled my limbs he was on me and I hit the floor so hard it knocked the air right out of my lungs. By the time I could breathe again, the metal of the shackles had closed once more around my wrists, cold and unyielding, and - this time - also around my ankles. In desperation I pulled at the chains but there wasn’t the slightest give. Then I froze. That sharp feeling against my chest was unmistakable. No. Not that again. Please. 

I knew what I’d find, but still I couldn’t help it. I looked down. There it was, the knife, gleaming its vicious threat against my chest. As soon as I had seen it, it began to slide, hovering a hair’s breadth from my skin, up toward my face.

“So,” said the raider and I very nearly gasped at the ice in his voice, from which every hint of playfulness had faded. “You don’t fear me enough. Is that the problem?”

He rested the knife against my chin and I could feel the pressure slowly building. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t even dare breathe. I’d pissed him off and that knife was right underneath my eye and oh God, no.

“No, please. I’m sorry. Please. I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, frantically.

“Didn’t mean to  _ what, _ exactly?”

It was as if my brain had been wiped clear. All I could think of was that blade slicing into my skin and my voice pleading, begging for him not to do whatever he was going to do anyway. 

A sharp slap on the side of my leg brought me back to reality and I stared up at the raider’s face, really seeing him for the first time since he had unchained me. He wasn’t smiling now, but neither was he glaring. He was looking down at me with idle fascination, his head cocked slightly to the side.

“You know, your begging is rather entertaining, but I am getting tired of waiting for an actual answer. Surely you can manage both at the same time.” He tapped the fingers of his knifeless hand on my chest in an impatient little drumbeat. “Go on. I’m waiting.”

I took a deep, shaky breath and tried not to sob as I slowly, word-by-near-impossible word, stammered out an answer: “I … I didn’t mean to … pull away. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … to disobey. You don’t need to cut me. I’ll do what-whatever you say. I’ll touch you. I’ll suck your cock. Whatever. Please.”

“I don’t need to cut you, huh?” He lifted the knife off my skin and placed it by his side. If I hadn’t already been crying, I would have started right then and there from sheer relief. I looked up at him through the tears in my eyes, my mouth still forming words that I didn’t have the breath to actually speak. 

“You’re going to do whatever I say, huh?”

I nodded frantically.

“And you think,” the hint of a smile played around the corner of the raider’s mouth, “that that means you’ll go unpunished for your disobedience?” 

And just like that the knife was back on my skin. But this time, it was resting not on my face but on the soft skin of my inner thigh, right next to my cock, which was, by now, shrivelled in fear. The overwhelming terror would have made me piss myself if I hadn’t been so dehydrated.

“Please! No!”

“You’re begging so nicely, so I’m going to give you a choice. Do I cut here?” The knife tapped softly, handle-first, against my cock. It didn’t hurt but I flinched hard. The raider paid me no heed. “Or would you prefer a nice long cut across your face?”

He waited for a moment, as if to give me time to answer, but the only noise that escaped my throat was a blubbery moan of despair as I desperately tried to pull myself free of the shackles. My wrists were already starting to feel painfully raw and I knew perfectly well I couldn’t get away, but I couldn’t stop.

“Down here would make the next few hours … interesting,” mused the raider, tapping the knife once more against my cock. “Suppose the pain will stop you getting hard until it’s healed but I can work with that. On the other hand, a nice scar might give some extra character to that beautiful face… Oh, stop struggling and lie still.” He placed a heavy hand on my chest and pushed me down. “You’re not even listening to how generous I’m being. I’m giving you a choice here. Nothing is making me do that, you know.”

My stomach turned at the very idea of the torture he was about to put me through. He couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let him. But all I could do was beg.

“Please. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t hurt me.”

“Make a decision. Your face,” the blade, scraping lightly against my skin, “or your cock,” the feeling of the handle tapping impatiently against places that the raider had been caressing only moments ago.

“I’ll do anything. I’ll suck your cock. I’ll spread my legs for you. I’ll let you fuck me. I’ll be your slave. Your toy. Your pet. Whatever you want me to be. I’ll … I’ll …” My heart was beating so hard in my throat I could barely push those words past it. Any moment now, the raider would cut me deep if I didn’t stop him. And I was fast running out of ideas. “I’ll pretend I like it. I’ll make myself like it for real, if that’s what you want. Please.”

The raider chuckled as he lifted the knife of my skin and twirled it idly in his hand. “Eager, aren’t we? Don’t worry,” he patted me lightly on the cheek, but I winced as though he’d slapped me, “I appreciate the effort. I’ll definitely take you up on the offer. Just as soon as I’ve made sure you truly mean it.”

“Pl-...”

“No.” His voice was so cold the air in my lungs turned to ice. “You’re done begging. The next word out of your mouth is going to be a decision. Your face or your cock. If you can’t decide, it’s going to be both.”

He stared down at me, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth, but it was the look in his eyes that told me that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, I could do to dissuade him from torturing me. I shut my eyes tight. But on the canvas of my eyelids I could see the knife slicing, cutting a chunk of flesh out of my face, disfiguring me for life, or else … my stomach heaved and I fought down a retch. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

I felt my lips move and heard my voice but it was as if someone else was speaking from far away: “My … my face.”

“Oh, finally!” said the raider happily. He leaned over me. Every muscle and tendon in my body was so tight it hurt. Any moment now the hot pain of the blade slicing into my skin would overwhelm my senses. I could barely stop myself from screaming in advance. But all I felt in the darkness was the raider’s hot breath as he said softly: “Good. Then I’ll know what  _ not _ to choose next time you really need punishment.”

So … he wasn’t going to…he really wasn’t going to... It took a moment for the words to sink in and still, even as I slowly opened my eyes, I expected the pain of the knife. But it didn’t come. When I finally looked up at him again, I saw he’d dropped the knife at my side. I could have bawled with relief.

“You’re going to be more cooperative now, aren’t you?”

I nodded frantically. Whatever depraved thing he was planning to do with me couldn’t possibly be worse than the pain I’d just escaped. 

“Good. Then we can finally have some fun together. Let me just clean your face, you look like a complete mess.” The wet rag slid gently down my face, wiping away tears and snot. “Ah yes, that’s better. Don’t you feel better now?” 

I looked up at the creepy mock concern in his face. My stomach gave an uncomfortable little flip when I realised that the honest answer was “Yes”. Perversely, I did feel grateful to the bastard for not letting me lie here with snot slowly drying on my face. 

“Oh come on now, there’s no need to look so upset. As long as you do as you’re told, I’m not even going to hurt you tonight. Promise.”

Of course I couldn’t believe him. Of course he was going to hurt me. Tonight. Tomorrow. If I even made it to tomorrow. But I wanted to believe him so fucking badly. 

My throat felt raw and every word was a struggle, but maybe if I had some time to prepare … maybe if I knew … this would somehow be bearable.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Hm, that is a good question,” he said, looking me up and down with a languid gaze. “I suppose I’ll see where the mood takes me.” He placed his hand gently on my face, then slowly slid it down the side of my neck, down my chest and finally let it rest on my hip. I hadn’t even realised how much I was still trembling until I saw his hand move from my shivering.

“Not going to untie you just yet. Not after that stunt you pulled before.”

My eyes flitted to the knife still lying by my side. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re going to be a good little plaything for me now. But maybe,” he mused, “I was taking things too fast. Should’ve made sure you were properly desperate before asking you to return the favour, shouldn’t I?”

He paused for a moment as though he were expecting an answer, but before I even had a chance to think of anything, anything at all that wouldn’t bring his cruelty crashing down on me, he continued: “Yeah, I think that’s it. So what I’m going to do to you is figure out what kind of touches you like. And what you’re going to do is lie back and enjoy, isn’t that right?”

“I …”

“Yes or no question, gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” I gasped. Fuck. I’d never felt less aroused in my entire fucking life. What if I couldn’t do what he wanted? Would it be back to pain again? I had the sudden urge to beg him to be gentle, to be patient, to give me time, to…

… “Fuck!”

I had expected many things but not the feeling of his tongue sliding, without warning, all the way up my inner thigh. His breath was hot on my skin as he chuckled: “God, I love how sensitive you are!” He planted a soft kiss right below my belly button, then raised his eyes to meet mine. My neck was starting to ache with the effort of lifting my head to look back at him, but somehow I couldn’t make myself look away now.

“Then again,” he sighed contentedly, “I’ve never failed to find the sensitive ones yet. The toy I had before you … well, I barely had to do more than breathe at him and he was rock hard. That one was fun.” His hands began to wander in circles, softly caressing my thighs, my hips, my belly. Everything except my cock. It was making my skin tingle in ways that weren’t entirely unpleasant. If he hadn’t just threatened me with torture, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t have taken much more than him breathing on me to make me hard, too. Even as it was I had to focus on the knife still lying next to me to stay in control of my own body. And on the unfortunate implications of what the raider had just said.

“What did you do to him?” 

“Sold him on when I got tired of him,” said the raider and shrugged, “got some good gear in exchange. Besides, variety’s the spice of life.”

So, he hadn’t killed him? Hadn’t tortured him to death, like I’d half-expected? But then again, there was no telling what kind of state he’d been in when leaving the raider’s hands. That’s if the bastard was being honest with me in the first place, which he had no reason to be. Nor did he have reason to lie but…

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” His strong hand closed on my throat, pushing me down, and sheer animal panic raced through my body. He was going to choke me! He was going to kill me right now! He was … “You’re giving me a crick in the neck just from looking at you. Keep your fucking head down and relax!” His fingers loosened before I even had time to come to grips with my imminent death. “If you can’t stop staring, I will blindfold you.”

“No. Please,” I whimpered. 

Even the idea of being not just shackled and helpless but completely in the dark about what was about to happen to me until the very moment it did made me want to scream in terror.

“Don’t know why you’re so keen to look,” the raider said, smiling, as his hand continued its maddening circle across my skin, “you’re not getting any input anyway. Well,” amusement was thick in his voice as he let his other, unoccupied hand wander spider-like up my chest and begin to copy the movements of its counterpart around my nipples, “your head isn’t, anyway. There’s some parts of you I’ll be watching very closely for feedback. I’ve decided I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.”

If I hadn’t been so terrified, I would have spat at him. Enjoy myself! Fat chance of that! This was all just part of his game, just another flavour of torture, just another way to break me. But the horrible, humiliating fact of the matter was: It was working. I could feel the heat rising under his fingers, no matter how hard I tried to ignore them. Even the threat of the knife was no longer enough to keep me unresponsive. And really, did I want to be? Maybe lying back and trying to enjoy the humiliation was my best option here. After all, a lack of response would only frustrate him and the last thing I wanted was a frustrated captor looking for more creative ways to get entertainment out of me. And … fuck … damn it … he knew what he was doing! 

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t hold back those moans. I want to hear them. I want the whole damn compound to hear them.”

Damn, had I actually been … but yes, yes, I had. Damn it! I could feel myself blushing to the roots of my hair. 

“I wonder if you’re a screamer.”

I reacted without thinking. My eyes flew open and I shot up, but the chains stopped me short with a painful yank. 

“Please, I’m doing what you want, I’m obedient, please, you don’t need to hurt me, I’ll be good, I’ll be…”

A finger placed gently against my lips interrupted my pleas.

“I meant when you come, silly thing. What were you imagining?”

Knives cutting intricate patterns into my skin as my screams for mercy went unheard - that’s what I’d been imagining. And from his smirk, the bastard fucking knew it.

He shook his head in mock disapproval. “You think too much, gorgeous. Maybe you need more stimulation, get you out of your head for a bit.” He looked down at me, his head cocked to one side, just long enough for me to start wondering exactly what kind of ‘stimulation’ he had in mind. Then his entire face lit up with glee. “Oh, I have just the thing.” 

He jumped to his feet and walked to a corner on the other side of the bed where he began rummaging. A moment later it seemed he had found what he was looking for, but whatever it was seemed to require some assembly and he was taking his time. I strained to catch a glimpse, but the chains were too taut. All I succeeded in doing was pulling a muscle in my left shoulder. The pain shot through my arm and I fell back with a yelp.

The raider turned around. An ominous metallic glint caught my eye from whatever he was cradling in his hand. More knives? Pokers? Some other horrifying torture device I hadn’t yet conceived of? Whatever he was holding in his hand didn’t bode well for me. But the glint in his eye was worse.

“Oh, you are incorrigible, aren’t you? Still trying to peek…”

Oh fuck. He’d told me not to and not only had I been stupid enough to disobey a direct order. I’d been stupid enough to get caught!

“I … I’m … I …”

“Yes, you’re very sorry, I’m sure. I told you what I’d do if I caught you trying to peek again, didn’t I?”

“Please, you don’t need to…”

“Didn’t I?” he asked again, smiling at me, but the threat was thick in his voice. If I didn’t give him the answer he wanted, this would go worse for me.

“You said you’d blindfold me.”

“Exactly.” He turned to drop the metallic thing onto the bed and picked up a piece of cloth instead. I didn’t fail to notice that he had laid it out before he had caught me looking. “Can’t have you hurting yourself because you can’t keep your curiosity at bay, can I now?”

I could feel my breath coming faster as he approached me, cloth in hand. I couldn’t help but shake my head as he knelt down and held the cloth up to my eyes.

“You’re not going to struggle, are you? It’s just a blindfold. Freshly washed, even. It’s not going to hurt you. If you don’t like the blindfold though, I can assure you there’s more permanent ways to…”

“No!”

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the sadistic fuck would gouge my eyes out if the mood took him. 

“Thought you might prefer the blindfold. Now, keep your head still or I won’t be able to tie a proper knot.”

With a few deft, clearly well-practised motions, my world sank into darkness. I felt his hands caressing my face before he pushed my head down.

“There. No more need to sit up now. You can just lie back and take what I give you.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked. I couldn’t stop the tremor in my voice.

“I said take what I give you, gorgeous,” he said and lightly slapped my cheek, not hard enough to hurt. “Your cock doesn’t seem to mind not knowing what’s coming. Neither should the rest of you.” He let his fingers run softly along my still-hard length and I couldn’t contain a gasp when he rested his fingers, just for a moment, on the sensitive tip.

I gasped again, from fear this time, a moment later when I heard a strange buzzing sound. My mind immediately summoned up images so clear I may as well not have been wearing the blindfold. Of drills. Of saws. Of what they were about to do to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind a little voice pointed out how incredibly decadent it was that this raider owned what seemed like a battery-powered tool, something my settlement had never been lucky enough to get our hands on, and he was wasting power just to torture me with it. On the outside, though, I could do nothing but strain in vain against my chains and beg.

“Please, I said I’d be good, I said I’d do anything, please don’t hurt me, I’ll…”

The buzzing object made contact with my skin, cutting short my words. I screamed. A split second later my mind caught up with the sensation coursing up my spine and I realised that it wasn’t pain. No sharp blade had cut into my skin. In fact, I couldn’t feel any sharp edges at all. Just a round hard object buzzing insistently against my most sensitive parts, making me buck in my restraints from a wave of pleasure so sudden and overwhelming it bordered on pain.

“Intense, huh?” asked the raider with laughter in his voice. 

All I could do in response was moan.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He ran the thing up my length and I very nearly wept from the feeling.

“Oh god, fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good. I rather enjoy using it on myself, too. Maybe I’ll let you watch and touch yourself one of these days.”

I had serious doubts that ‘let’ was the word he was looking for, but there wasn’t enough time to dwell on the humiliating image he was conjuring up before he moved the thing again, exploring an ever so slightly different spot, making me writhe anew against my chains. My ankles and wrists were sore from the pressure but I barely even noticed. 

“You’re probably quite impressed. Toys like this aren’t easy to find. I’ve got a whole box full, though. Metal, glass, rubber. This one’s special, though. I don’t waste batteries on my fucktoys unless I’m sure they’re worth it. And you don’t disappoint. You should see the way you’re moving those hips. Come to think of it, how are you with your hands?”

I’d never touched a dick aside from my own but if it made him decide all he wanted was my hands, I would try my best to give the best hand job that had ever been given in the history of fucking. Besides, it meant he had to unshackle me, right?

“Please, I’ll … oh god … I’ll try … I’ll… fuck … be good for you...”

“I didn’t mean it like that, gorgeous,” he responded, “not going to untie you just yet. Just wondering if I could have you put up a mirror on my ceiling. I think it would be quite fun if you could see yourself the way you are now, losing all control. Well, once you’re no longer blindfolded, of course.”

The thought made me want to curl into a ball and hide myself in shame but even if the chains hadn't stopped me, I wouldn’t have been able to pull away. The toy was too hard to resist.

“Nevermind. That can wait till later. For now … let’s have some more fun.” I felt him letting go of the toy, which immediately vibrated off me. I howled in frustration, not even trying all that hard to hold back. What was the point? I couldn’t stop myself anyway and it wasn’t like I had any dignity left to protect.

“Patience!” said the raider and slapped me lightly once more. “I only have two hands! I suppose I could untie you, make you pleasure yourself for a while. But you’re not exactly a picture of self-control right now. In fact, you could use a little cooling down. I really don’t want you coming before I’m done with you.”

The words were said casually, but I would have been a complete idiot not to hear the threat in them. This was an ‘or else’ situation. I tried hard to fight back against the urge, but I couldn’t stop my hips from bucking to meet the toy, the raider’s hand, any sort of friction.

I didn’t even notice he had unlocked the shackles around my ankles until I pulled against the chains, expecting resistance, found it lacking and my feet slipped. I fell hard onto the concrete floor.

“Hey, don’t bruise that gorgeous ass of yours. That’s my job!”

“I … I … I’m sorry … I didn’t …”

“I’m joking, for fuck’s sake. Get your knees up!” 

Before I even had a chance to understand what he wanted from me, he grabbed me under both knees and pulled my legs into position. With a sudden burst of clarity, I understood exactly how much access my current position was giving him. I was completely vulnerable and thinking of the knife still within reach was all I could do not to kick out.

“Hold on, wait … I …”

“Oh, don’t act like a blushing virgin now. With an ass like that, surely you’ve been fucked before.”

“No, I…”

“Always been the one to do the fucking then?”

I’d never been with a man before and the women I’d made love to throughout my life had been perfectly happy with the uncomplicated pleasures I had provided them, so no, I’d never been penetrated, but none of that was any of the raider’s business and I wasn’t about to volunteer it. Besides, my mouth was in no shape to form that many words. All that escaped my lips was an involuntary whimper.

“Time to broaden your horizons then,” whispered the raider. I felt something pushing up against my backside, slick and hard, but so cold and unyielding it couldn’t possibly be him, unless he really was the demon I’d taken him for at first. I gasped as it entered me with barely any resistance. 

“Please. Stop! Don’t!”

“Oh quit whining and breathe. I’m not hurting you.”

It took me a moment to realise that he was right. Not that there was the slightest chance he would have relented if he had been wrong, but the toy inside me wasn’t actually causing me any pain. The sensation was strange and uncomfortable, but - I realised this with a jolt as the other toy began buzzing lightly against my cock and my hips rocked up to meet it - it hadn’t even caused me to go soft. Quite the opposite. 

“See, I told you it’s quite enjoyable.” His hands were on the toys, moving both of them in the same rhythm, up and down, in and out. The strange sensation faded more and more with every moment, making way for something new, something my body was far from rejecting. I could feel my entire lower half throbbing in time with the movement of the toys. Tension was building inside of me, every muscle and tendon of my body tightening, ready for the release that was about to come. The sensation was so overwhelming that, for a moment, I completely forgot where I was and who I was with.

Until, without warning, the vibrating toy was pulled away and the raider pushed me down with a growl: “I told you, you don’t get to come until I’m done with you. Do I look like I’m done with you?” 

He ripped the blindfold from my face so fast it was downright disorienting. It took me a long moment to focus on the raider right above me. Too long. His hand grabbed my throat and pushed my chin into position.

“I said, do I fucking look like I’m done with you?”

He did not. His skin was flushed and his eyes wide with arousal. And as I looked further down, I realised he’d shuffled off his trousers and was now naked from the waist down. His hard cock was jutting out from a nest of light-coloured pubes. If the way he was looking at me left any doubt about his intentions, they were wiped away when he reached for a bottle of what looked like vegetable oil and began dribbling it over himself. I felt the air catching in my throat as I desperately tried to form words.

“I … I … I could …”

His one now-free hand grabbed onto my hip hard, fingers digging into my skin with bruising strength.

“Yes, beautiful?”

“I could suck your …”

“Oh, changed your mind about that then? Don’t worry. You will, eventually. I’ve just decided I want to see what your ass feels like first.”

And before his words could even sink in, he pulled the hard toy out of me, grabbed me by the hips with both hands and impaled me on his cock. I gasped with the shock of the violation - but not only with that. As he slowly pulled out of me, only to thrust back in, I realised with a whimper that my cock was responding to his rhythm with throbs of desperation. Before I even had time to come to terms with that realisation, one of the raider’s hands left my hips and I heard the familiar buzzing of the vibrating toy.

“No, please, I won’t be able to stop myself!” 

The fingers that remained on my hip dug in painfully. It had to be the terrifying look on his face that was making me imagine it, but for just a moment I thought his nails were cutting into my flesh like small blades. Then the moment passed as he loosened his grip, but only to move his hand further up, cupping my face in a mockery of tenderness.

In an ominous whisper, he breathed: “You do not tell me ‘no’! And you will be able to hold back until I tell you otherwise.”

There was no way in hell that I was going to hold on for even one second if he held that toy up against me while pushing himself inside of me, hitting spots in my body I hadn’t even known existed. But his voice brooked no dissent and I didn’t want to think about what might happen to me if I disappointed him. 

Fortunately for me, thinking about anything at all became damn near impossible when that toy made contact with my skin again. Bolts of pure pleasure were shooting through my whole body. I was rigid with it, trying so hard to hold on that it was painful. I could feel my mouth moving of its own accord, alternating between pleading whimpers and desperate moans and the noises I was making were mingling with the raider’s own moans that were growing louder with each thrust. It was all too much. The sounds. The toy against my cock and the feeling of him inside of me. The smell of our sweat mingling in the air. I’d never felt this fucking desperate and I knew, I knew, I mustn’t come, coming without permission would mean horrible pain, but every time I tried to hold onto the image of the knife slicing into my skin, it slipped away, replaced immediately by the unbearable, irresistible sensations enveloping my entire body and I had to … I had to…

And right as I lost my grip on my last remaining shred of self-control, I felt his fingernails digging deeper into the flesh of my hips, felt him thrust hard into me and heard his voice, much too soft for the downright feral look on his face: “Now you can let go.”

And I did. Not that I had a choice. A wave of pleasure, stronger than any I’d ever experienced, hit my body. Hard. I could barely see straight as the climax gripped me, making me writhe and moan and curse in ways I never had before. I could hear the raider moaning, too. 

“Oh, fuck! Oh God, yes!” 

And I felt him fill me up, felt him warm and wet inside of me, and at that moment I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t disgusted, I wasn’t really anything except the fucktoy he wanted me to be, bucking and moaning underneath him, all thought of dignity abandoned.

* * *

I came to myself moments later as I felt the raider’s weight shifting on top of me. There was a clicking sound above me, then another one and I realised my hands were free, but I didn’t have the energy nor the courage to move them. Not until something soaking wet hit me in the chest and my eyes snapped open in surprise. 

I found myself alone on the ground, a washrag plastered to my chest. The raider was standing nearby in the washtub, eyeing me with a tired sneer.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get yourself cleaned up! You look a mess!”

I felt a mess. Exhausted, sticky with sweat and things I’d rather not think about, humiliated. And somehow, implausibly alive. I dragged myself off the ground and walked, legs shaky with exhaustion, to join my captor.


End file.
